


A Ring so Dark and Binding

by nahra



Category: Naruto
Genre: A bit of a slow burn I think!, Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Atmospheric, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Nature Magic, Romance, Spirits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:27:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24641644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nahra/pseuds/nahra
Summary: Hundreds of years after magic has torn through and reclaimed the Earth, Temari of the Sand journeys through it's ruins to save her human settlement from descending into war. All it will take is her hand in marriage, given to the leader of another settlement far from her home, her brothers, and all she's ever known. But when on the way she attempts to cross the Nara forest, nothing goes as planned.Shikamaru is the newly appointed Sovereign Spirit of the Nara forest. Though the very place is named after his family, he's not ready to take up the mantle on his own--at least, not so soon after the inexplicable death of his favorite uncle. Thus a marriage is arranged, to a Spirit from the sands, and, as far as Shikamaru's concerned, it's the perfect solution to all of his problems. Right up until it's not.In a cruel twist of fate, Temari and Shikamaru wind up married to one another instead of their intended--a mistake as impossible as it is deadly. It's only by working together that they have any hope of reversing what's been done. But how can they, when one is human, wild and destructive, and the other a Spirit, the exact kind of creature that ended the world so long ago?
Relationships: Nara Shikamaru/Temari
Comments: 9
Kudos: 16





	A Ring so Dark and Binding

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! It's been about two years since I last posted anything. I'm excited to be back and writing about my favorite couple of idiots again, especially since I'm pretty sure I've improved since my previous fic. Let me know what you think! (Also, I know the story concept is even weirder this time around, but hopefully you'll bear with me) <3 Happy reading!

Temari didn’t know of a time before the calamity. Most no one did. 

But when she was younger (though maybe she was remembering it wrong) Temari had been delighted by the stories her mother spun; whimsical, dark tales told long after the sun had gone to sleep. Stories of “before”. Of the past. Of giant metal machines that held humans in their bellies, taking them from one corner of the earth to the other; hushed whispers of cities wrought in glass, shining with electric lights and gleaming smiles. Such delightful stories that her mother had learned from her mother’s mother and her mother before her.

But after she died, the stories stopped. And no one, not even teachers, cared much for such nonsense. Adults were concerned about the here, the now. It left Temari questioning if she’d ever heard her mother’s tales in the first place.

It was only things like the monument before her that made her think perhaps she had.

It stood sentient in the night, sewn of stone and metal, rising high beneath the moon. The building must’ve reached at least a hundred feet--fifty higher than any in Temari’s settlement, unless you counted the watch towers. Not for the first time, she wondered exactly how hellish the calamity was to have buried such a testament.

She didn’t wonder long. The desert air was biting into her cheeks with cold teeth and brittle resolve. Her limbs were stiff from trudging through sand and though Temari knew she needed to keep going, had to cross the Nara forest by dawn, she also knew she couldn’t go on without a damned nap. A few minutes wouldn’t kill her. Just a few.

So she clamored into the building quick, through a window like the maw of an ancient scorpion--jagged and bigger than her whole body. She fumbled with a match and on the third strike against one of the walls, the thin spindle of wood lit, illuminating the room around her.

Nothing all too surprising. As in awe as Temari was of the past, of the stories and the monuments from the world before, she’d been here once. Only once, considering how far from her settlement it was, but it was enough that she wasn’t surprised by the rotting desks, the torn chairs. Into one of those chairs she threw her backpack. The canvas crumpled in on itself and Temari ignored how little she’d packed.

She’d wanted to take more, of course. Of course. But when it came down to it, she’d found herself facing the fact that there was little to take: an assortment of desert clothes, various shades of grey and purple; her khol used for special occasions, to line her eyes; a lamellophone she barely knew how to use. It was pathetic, really. She’d lived her whole life in the settlement in the sand--Suna, as other settlements knew it--and yet she had nothing to show for it. She wished she did. She loved her home. She loved her brothers. Yet, living so sparsely was necessary when a battle could break out at any moment. 

The sudden, searing heat at the tips of her fingers brought her back. She shook and threw it away, throwing herself to the ground, too. She curled into a ball for some other form of warmth, foregoing a fire.

Barely thirty seconds passed. She wondered if, perhaps, making a fire wouldn’t be so bad after all. At least it would give her something to do to keep her mind occupied. It could give her something to channel her frustration into, because, within those thirty seconds, her mind was beginning to spin.

Earlier, it had been the walking that helped. Temari was used to sifting through sand for long periods of time, her blood all but infused with the land--but even for her, six hours of marching was pushing it. Which made her push harder. She found the more she walked, the less she focused on what she was doing, the pain in her legs a pinpoint. If she just focused on that pain, Temari wouldn’t mourn for the home she was leaving; the tents of beaten white and worn red, the muted clay houses, sometimes stacked atop one another, sometimes packed side by side. If she just focused on the pain, she wouldn’t have to think about how she was leaving it all behind to marry a complete stranger.

She pursed her lips. Ah, yes. A complete stranger.

And then a harsh, echoing _wham_.

Temari was on her feet. The noise had come from behind her, traveling from the back to the front of the gutted building. She spun and her knife, always at her side, was unsheathed. She aimed the tip into the darkness as if to cut it away, revealing the intruder.

An ancient creature, possibly. An assassin from another settlement? There were a number of possibilities, but no matter who or what it was, Temari was far more bothered by the fact that she hadn’t heard the bastard coming. There was a reason she was sought after as a bride--she’d been deemed the strongest soldier in Suna. But how could she uphold that name if she wasn’t even able to anticipate an ambush?

She gripped the knife tighter. It glinted, revealed in the moonlight.

“For the love of all the spirits, put that thing away, you animal.”

And just like that, the tension snapped. His voice was familiar to her as the sun--and just as relentless. She let out a breathless laugh and though Temari lowered her dagger, she still had half a mind to throw it, hopefully stabbing her younger brother directly in the face.

“What the _hell,_ Kankuro?” Temari hissed, disbelief and anger warring. “What--what are you doing out here?”

There was some shuffling and then Kankuro was stepping into a strip of moonlight. The first thing she registered were the bags under his eyes, heavy as night, then the grime on his face, created from sand sticking to sweat. His usual face paint, the purple triangles that pointed from his jaw, the lining around his eyes, was gone, reserved, she supposed, for the daytime. It was just his cat-ear’d cloth now, wrapped around him head to toe in a black that blended with the shadows.

“Oh no--no, no, no. You know exactly what I’m doing here. More like what are _you_ doing here?” he shot back.

Temari stiffened. “How did you even--I--you followed me? For six hours?”

“You wouldn’t? If I were sneaking out to get married to some asshole demanding my hand in marriage, you’re telling me you wouldn’t?”

“It’s for a good reason, Kankuro, and you know it.”

“Fuck your good reasons. Come on, we’re going home.”

Irritation flickered in her chest. “No, you’re going home. I’m going to the settlement by the springs.”

Kankuro scowled and took another step forward, looking angered, too. But there was something more. Something rigid in his posture speaking to the big sister in Temari. She sucked in a breath, realizing he had tears in his eyes.

Kankuro was the middle child. The oldest was Temari, Gaara the youngest. And though logically Temari knew it was difficult to be stuck in the middle, she often forgot about that small detail. He was taller than her. He was--albeit rarely--smarter than her, in some ways. And he’d always seemed so self sufficient. But he was still younger.

As was typical of the middle child, Kankuro was the type to play off his hurt as a joke. He was funny, a little mean, and somewhat wild, often conveying his disdain for seeming to be forgotten by pulling wild stunts. She remembered distinctly having to fight an entire family of ancient scorpions because Kankuro thought it’d be a grand time to try and ride one. She’d smacked him hard for that little escapade and then they’d gone home and made sweet bread, something they usually didn’t spare the sugar to do.

The point was, she loved him. She loved her younger siblings so much it hurt. Temari had practically raised them, especially after their mother had died and their father had become nothing but useless and abusive. For whatever reason, it never did get out that the leader of Suna was a child-beating asshole. For years, he kept that secret locked tight, and while the settlement didn’t exactly love him, they at least respected him. He’d been a decent Councilor, but as a father… well, Temari hadn’t been too torn up when he died in a battle with Konoha three years ago. It’d put Gaara into power, which was the best thing Suna had experienced in years. With his even disposition and unparalleled abilities on the battlefield, he’d managed to expand Suna’s territory into a canyon that boasted a clear pool of water. Water, the most precious of resources, that was now being stolen by the springs.

“Temari, please--” Kankuro began again, after a moment of silence.

But she cut him off.

“Stop it. I have to do this.”

“You don’t have to do anything!” he shouted, “You can do whatever you want!”

“I _want_ to avoid a land-dispute with the springs! We don’t have the man-power to fight them right now, so instead we make a trade--they stand down and give us the canyon back as a show of good faith, and we give them a warrior.”

“But what if we asked Konoha to--”

“Our peace treaty with them is tenuous at best, ‘Kuro. Just because Gaara and Naruto are friends doesn’t mean our settlements are.” 

“Come on! You know Naruto could get Kakashi to side with us for a while.”

“It’s not worth cashing in the favor. Give it a rest! You’ll survive without me.”

““Now that’s a joke if I’ve ever heard one.” Kankuro pushed back his hood, running fingers through thick, dark hair. “Gods, this is so dumb. You know this is so dumb, right?” And then he was really walking forward, stopping before her, wrapping his arms around her. “Right?”

Temari stiffened further. Kankuro wasn’t the type to show affection. But there was the burn of tears in her own eyes and her body loosened. She let herself lean into him, before sighing deeply and nodding. “Right.”

Kankuro’s grip tightened. “Just…if this is going to happen, don’t let him keep you forever, ok? Kill him if he treats you bad and come home to us.”

Gently, Temari pushed her brother back, a soft, sly smile forming. “You know, you’ll probably have to come to the official wedding ceremony, right? You can watch me kill him then.”

“Uhhhhg. Still. I can’t believe he wouldn’t take me, _the second strongest warrior_ , as his bride. Asshole.”

Temari laughed, just a little, and it was a relief to see him coming to terms with the whole affair. He’d walked six gods damned hours to do so. It probably would’ve been worth it to just come out and tell the truth before she left.

“Well,” Kankuro said, “I’ll finish escorting you there.”

Or maybe not.

“You can’t. You are _not_ going through the Nara forest and, besides...I want to do this alone. Show the springs that it was my choice to go. If you come with me, it’ll be like I’m hesitant, or had been forced, or, worse, it could show I’m weak.”

Kankuro clutched at his chest. “Ouch. You really think I’m that much of a burden?”

“I’m serious,” Temari said, “I’m going alone. You’re welcome to catch a quick nap, which is what I was trying to do before I was so rudely interrupted. But then go home. Garra must be worried.”

“Worried? Tem, he’s mad. He’s _mad._ Like how he used to be.”

“All the more reason for you to go back and tell him everything's fine.”

Kankuro sighed and shook his head. He backed up and threw his pack on a different rotting chair, dug into it to bring out a couple of blankets and a few rolls of bread. Tossing one to Temari, he immediately stuck the other in his mouth and settled on the floor. “As if,” he grumbled.

Temari settled beside him.

“Just go to sleep,” she said. “You have a lot of walking back to do.”

“And to think, all for nothing. I didn’t even change your mind a bit.”

Temari snorted. “Did you really think you would?”

“...No.”

At that point, there was nothing more to say than “goodnight.” But saying “goodnight” meant saying “goodbye” and Temari wasn’t keen on doing so. She’d tried to leave without her brothers knowing for a reason.

So they didn’t say goodnight. Instead, after a long silence in which they said nothing at all, Kankuro’s breath evened out, and Temari moved as a ghost might, in complete and utter quiet. She crept out of the building and back into the desert once more.

She didn’t look back.

***

Dawn was breaking by the time she arrived at the treeline.

It was jagged and green and abrupt; where the sand ended the branches began, jarring in their sudden rise. She didn’t know their names, but they looked gnarled and full with over-saturated leaves. Looking both left and right, Temari tried to see how far the line stretched--but it was endless.

Supposedly, it was a side effect of the calamity. People often said there used to be transitions between landscapes, like a guide to hold your hand. But now the lands were split into five distinct factions with seemingly no rhyme or reason and it was sometimes unnerving to know that at certain places, the desert--part of the Land of Wind--would stop in perfect parallel lines as they did here, refusing to touch the oceans that belonged to the Land of Water or the mountains of the Land of Earth.

_Petty_ , Temari thought. _Petty Spirits_.

And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Petty Spirits. Angry Spirits. Angry, petty Spirits that had ruined the world hundreds of years ago, caused the calamity, once they’d decided to rise up and reclaim nature from the humans. And here she was, about to pass through the Nara forest, home to the Spirits of the Land of Fire.

She wasn’t afraid, per say, but her palms were cold and clammy despite the heat. She could’ve gone around the forest--around the Land of Fire entirely--in order to get to the settlement by the springs, but that meant going south, into the ocean. Temari knew that would be terrain even more unfamiliar to her than the trees, which she had passed through once during the dispute between Suna and Konoha, the settlement in the leaf. They’d been lucky to mostly avoid the Spirits of the Nara forest that time. Only a few battles that she hadn’t been involved in. But Temari recalled vividly those who’d come back from such encounters, with wounds deep as canyons.

Spirits were manifestations of nature and they despised humans. If you encountered a Spirit, you were more than likely going to walk away with broken limbs and ruptured organs, if you walked away at all. They were the reason the human population was so low and the settlements so few and land available to live on so scarce. Even walking through the desert was a task and a half; Temari had to avoid so many areas in order to get through without encountering a sand Spirit and now, upon entering the forest, she’d be doing the same thing, except in terrain she didn’t really know. And that wasn’t to mention the ancient creatures that rose from the grounds at the whims of Spirits. Those were _hell_ to deal with.

Temari let herself stop, briefly. Not hesitate, exactly, but stop, to take a breath, to steel herself against the forest ahead. Petty Spirits. Angry Spirits. That’s all they were.

She crossed the line cleaving the sand from the trees and didn’t stop again.

**Author's Note:**

> Haha also don't @ me for the title. It's a popular title structure circling around the YA hemisphere of publishing!


End file.
